Angel of the Timelord
by alexalet
Summary: Sam and Dean notice a strange string of disappearances. And they all seem to be connected to a British shapeshifter, a ghostly blue box, the rather angelic power to time travel, and aliens. But, aliens can't be real. Can they?
1. Chapter 1

Angel of the timelord

"Dean. I think I found us a case." Sam sits at a small wooden table in a dark motel room, pouring over a digital news report on his laptop. Dean, lying face down on a queen sized bed, bowie knife in hand, doesn't stir. Sam looks up, purses his lips, and tries again, this time louder. "Dean I found a case!" Dean still doesn't move, but a muffled voice says from within the thin pillow "Dude whoever it is, I'm sure they'll still be dead when it isn't like 6 in the morning." All the same, he rolls over and swings his legs over the side of the bed, still clutching the knife. A digital clock blinks 9:33, casting a slight red tinge on the revolver lying on the bedside table. Without waiting for any more prompting, Sam begins speaking again. "So get this. Apparently, people, usually women, have been disappearing. 23 all together. "

"So? People disappear all the time. What makes you think this is our kind of gig?"

"Well, a lot of them have eyewitness accounts of their apparent abductions. All of them were taken by a white British man, but it seems like it was never the same one. At least, not more than a few by each man."

"So James Bond likes a few lady friends. Didn't know he swang the other way, but still not seeing the case here."

"Here's the weird part. These accounts are all over the place on timeline and on the map. The earliest I could find was in Scotland in 1746. There was probably more even earlier that I can't find. Then it goes crazy. 1866 in London, 1999 in San Francisco, right up until last week in Blackpool. Not only that, but a lot of them show up as being left by a similar man, again all over the world and since, like, before they had news."

"And these are connected how? I mean, the world is screwed up and British guys prey on people. Probably always have and probably always will."

"Every single eyewitness account I could find mentions the women being taken in a disappearing blue box."

Dean stands up and walks over to peer over Sam's shoulder at his research. "So what, we got a ghost taking people and then giving them back?"

"I don't think so. Not all of them come back. And not everyone he leaves seems to have been taken. Yet."

"Yet? What do you mean 'yet'?"

"Well, a couple of the more recent news stories have victim's direct quotes published in them. And every one of them mentions time travel."

Dean gags on the bite of bagel he had half swallowed. "Time travel? So what, now we have angels going on date rape sprees?"

"I don't know Dean. I mean, it's not a lot to go on, but four of the stories mention that the victim thought that their kidnapper was alien."

"Alien? There's no such thing. When you were soulless we went hunting one, but it was just another freaking angel. Those dicks are everywhere."

"That's what I thought too. I mean, we already agreed that some hunter somewhere would have heard of aliens if they did exist. But I did some digging in the medical records around the time of one of the abductions. San Francisco 1999. Check out this MRI." Sam double clicks a minimized window, and it fills the screen with a slightly fuzzy picture of a chest. Dean stares at it, as Sam continues. "It was supposed to be destroyed, but apparently, it belonged to a man who died and then vanished. Sort of. They stuck him in the morgue's refrigerator, and then a completely different man walked out. I checked the security footage. One man goes in, another goes out. It's not a shifter either. No eye glare." For the first time since Dean awoke, Sam looks away from his laptop at Dean.

"So what you're telling me is we've got a British time traveling monster who can shift and who kidnaps women in his disappearing blue box? I can get behind that man, but alien? We've seen some messed up whackadoo, but I don't know. Seems like you and I should have already seen it all."

Sam pointed at the computer screen and pursed his lips again. "Dean, have you ever seen a spirit, demon, angel, shifter, human, or, well, anything on this planet with two hearts?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

"Dude. Seriously?"

"Dean, we've been over this." Sam puts on his right turn signal and begins to slow down for the next exit, marked Columbus International Airport.

"Yeah, but seriously? _England?"_

Sam, eyes still on the road, makes an exasperated noise. "Dean, most of the people who've been taken were taken in the United Kingdom."

"What about those two from San Francisco? We could drive there in a few hours." Dean, nervously cleaning under his fingernails with a penknife, winces as the car goes over a speed bump, sending the point of the blade a few millimeters into the nail bed.

"As far as we can tell, Mr. Two Hearts only hit up San Fran once, 15 years ago. I wouldn't call that a fresh lead."

Sucking on the small red bead forming on his left thumb, Dean mumbles "We've gone after a lot less." He turns to look out the window, just as a large blue Southwest jet flies over the Impala. Dean winces again, more out of nervousness than pain. Speaking clearly again, he turns back to Sam. "I still don't see why we couldn't just have Cas zap us there."

"Ok dude. We have been waiting. Is that not why we've been sitting in that dump of an EconoLodge praying to him for the last two weeks? Just face it. Unless Cas magically appears within the next 20 minutes, we're flying."

Before Dean has time to respond, the radio, which had been playing "Pour Some Sugar On Me," becomes staticy, the music stopping. An unmistakable voice crackles to life.

"I do apologize for my delay in answering your prayers. I've been… occupied."

"Cas!" Dean almost yells out of relief. "Oh God buddy you've got to save me from these flying metal death traps."

"You are hunting a transformer? Where does my Father come into play?"

"What?" Sam and Dean say in unison, still not used to Cas' extensive knowledge of human media. "No no no no no," says Dean. "Planes. Geez, don't you actually listen to your prayers? Get your ass down here and zap us to London."

"I'm afraid I can't. I myself am rather stuck."

"What? Why?" Dean and Sam exchange worried looks as another plane soars overhead.

"I… don't know. All of the rest of my powers seem to be working, but I am unable to teleport."

"O-Ok buddy." A note of panic returns to Dean's voice. "Where are you? We can come pick you up and figure this out."

There is a long moment of silence. "I believe I am in Cardiff."

"Cardiff?" Sam and Dean say in unison.

"Yes, the capital of Wales? Ninth largest city in the UK? Popular filming location for BBC shows such as Merlin and Sherlock?"

There is a long moment of silence in the Impala as Sam steers into a parking space in the red lot.

Sam is the first to speak. "Good thing we're already on our way." He shoots Dean a meaningful look. Dean's face drains of all color.

"Thank you. I have arranged for someone to meet you in London at the giant blue cock." With that, Castiel's voice cuts off, allowing Def Leppard to resume playing.

"Giant blue cock? I heard that right, right?" Sam looks bemused by the whole situation. Dean simply nods, his face now beginning to take on a pale green hue. "Okay then. We'd better get going, our flight leaves in just under two hours, and we don't want to be late for our giant blue cock date."

As they walk to the small bus stop to catch the shuttle, Dean mutters, almost inaudibly. "I freaking hate flying."


End file.
